America: 50☆Stars (Vol. 4)

Episode 19: Sally

June 1825.

Like her younger brother, Sarah "Sally" Lincoln had been described by most accounts to possess dark coarse hair, deep gray eyes, and a good-natured soul that was widely believed to have come from an environment of love, trust, and understanding. Oftentimes, it was easier not to mention the tragedies and tribulations that plagued their poor family. Such painful, pitiful memories remained ingrained in the darkest corners of their childhood. Should they again be said in their presence, she and her brother could very well be afflicted with despair and deep regret. Already, they had suffered more than enough emotional distress from enduring those lonely, miserable times. Nothing could be done to fully erase their trauma. They could only accept those tragic experiences as a grim part of life on the American frontier. In turn, it caused Sally to mature into a stout woman of modest beauty, known better by the Little Pigeon Creek Community to carry a sharp sense of wit and a solid set of morals. She learned to forgive the past and look forward to the future in which marriage and motherhood were fated for eighteen-year-old maidens like her.

That sort of surmise, she hoped, would make her angel mother smile down from Heaven.

For now, Sally occupied her time as a hire for her neighbors, the Crawfords, who had moved from Kentucky into southern Indiana last year and needed some help sustaining their property. Mr. Crawford had previously hired her brother to daub their round unbarked log cabin, develop their pig pen, dig up a water well, and do other kinds of farm chores; he later hired her father to craft furniture for their one-room home. Naturally, she offered a hand in domestic chores so that Mrs. Crawford could afford to work on other responsibilities related to their farm and their profession as a small-town practitioner in medicine. Though the pay wasn't much more than 25¢ per day, the Lincoln household never once raised a complaint. Regardless of their decently poor circumstance, it was more meaningful to serve as good people in the community, so much so that they had become known for their honesty and hospitality toward their neighbors. The Crawfords were no exception. Both Mr. Crawford and Mrs. Crawford graciously appreciated their kindness, often letting the Lincoln children stay home for supper and some time to relax after a hard day of work.

One evening at the Crawfords' cabin, Sally invited Matilda "Tilda" Johnston, their fourteen-year-old step-sister, and Elizabeth Wood, the daughter of a neighbor, to a game of Snakes and Ladders for the entertainment of the four-year-old Abel Crawford.

Amid their game, Abel asked abruptly and nervously, staring at Sally sitting across the table, "Are you and Aaron getting married?"

"W-Why do you ask?" Sally squeaked in blushing embarrassment to the giggling amusement of the other girls in the room. "What brought this on?"

"Um, well ..." The little boy glanced away, twiddling his tiny fingers. "I told Mama I saw Aaron kiss you the other day, and she told me I needed to stop spying, or I won't get to go to your wedding."

"You saw me and Aaron ...?" Her cheeks burned even hotter.

"My goodness," Elizabeth cackled in a teasing manner. "Have you no sense of decency, acting like a naughty little hussy in front of a sweet, innocent child?"

"D-Don't say that in front of him. It's inappropriate."

Tilda giggled, "Settle down, Sally. Stop being so straight-laced. There's no shame in falling in love with the boy next door. Besides, it's no little secret in Little Pigeon Creek. You and Aaron only have eyes for each other. Isn't that right?"

"I suppose ..." Sally mumbled meekly, unable to deny her romantic feelings for the eldest son of the Grigsby family. She had known him ever since her family moved here in December 1816. Being a shy pre-teen girl new to the sparsely-inhabited area at the time, she hardly knew anybody aside from family and Mr. Grigsby who lived a mile east of them. She spent the first couple of weeks in her new home, assisting her mother with chores such as carrying soiled clothes to wash at the freshwater spring on the Grigsbys' property. It was there on a chilly Monday morning she met the fifteen-year-old Aaron Grigsby. He had since become a familiar face on weekly washdays, often helping them with their laundry, which was unnecessarily nice of him to do. That was what she always thought until she was suddenly left as the only woman in her household for some time. What would've been another lonely, tiresome chore turned out to be a comforting distraction from periods of distress and discomfort. Never could she imagine carrying on with ordinary life without ever seeing him, talking to him, or even sharing a sweet kiss with him. Their bond after a decade had become something special, much more than a mutual friendship between like-minded neighbors.